War and Serenity
by Travellers all
Summary: After the loss of Earth that was, Humanity made a new start, a system hidden from the dangers of the Warp. Of course, some people had to stay, and formed the Imperium of Man. Now the Imperium has rediscovered the Terra Deus system, and has decided to reclaim it for the glory of the God-Emperor. Hooray for the first Firefly/ Warhammer 40K crossover! T for possible violence.
1. Chapter 1

Firstly, Yay for the first Firefly/Warhammer 40K crossover. Secondly, I own neither of the afore mentioned series. Those belong to Joss Whedon and Games Workshop respectively. Thirdly, Please read and review. I would apprecicate feedback.

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[Records Department: Lexmechanic Artesius]

[41M:043:05:21:19:45:55:231][Mil:YYY:MM:DD:HH:mm:ss:mil]

[Perimeter of Terra Deus System]

[Star-bound at 0.5c]

[Begin vid-file transfer]

Commander Ryspiten Halsyng stood at the side of his pilot, staring out at the system as it whooshed by. Whoever had found this system must have known something he didn't. Evidently, this system bore several dozen livable planetoids, many more than any other system he knew of. It had been rediscovered in the archives by an absent-minded lexmechanic who had been researching a new way to beat back the 'Nids, in the hopes that some of that information had merely been lost. Instead, the augmented boy had returned bearing the location of this lost system and an update request from the Adeptus Mechanicus lexmechanics.

He peered closely at the void outside the purple ripple of the Void-shields slamming into space debris. There was something out there, and he pointed at it, the pilot reacting with a wave of his own hand. Deep inside the elegant vessel, logic engines the size of large Titans turned the order over quickly, guiding the machine spirit to shift the course very slightly. Ryspiten gritted his teeth. It had been over seven thousand years since any Imperium vessel had set foot in this system, and he honestly had no idea how well their sudden reappearance would go over.

The vessel, as he now saw it to be, approached rapidly, and he ordered the pilot to slow down, and bring them to rest orbiting the smaller vessel. The pilot obliged, and the small, rotund vessel became even clearer, only to divide into two independent vessels tethered together by a flexible hose made of some sort of polymer. Auspex scans showed the broader of the two vessels to be almost completely devoid of life, barring a single person seated in what had to be the bridge. The smaller had a cluster of four inside the belly, and no-one in the bridge portion, which Ryspiten could see clearly atop the hawk-like nose protruding over a decent portion of the polymer corridor. That would make it slightly difficult to get their attention, as both vessels appeared to lack astropaths of any sort. His own head astropath merely looked confused after trying to ping both vessels. Perhaps a direct comm would work, if they even still used the same standard frequencies.

Suddenly, the vox crackled to life and a harsh, grating female voice cut through the static, _"Unidentified vessel, please identify yourself and confirm designation, or you will be fired upon."_

Raspytin leaned on the railing, "I see. They must have forgotten the might wielded by the Imperium. Draw a target lock on them, and forward the chimes to the bridge." He reached forward and pressed the comm-bead in his ear, "This is Arcanus Dragunov of the Imperium of Man. You are to stand down immediately, or you will be removed from our way as a heretical pest."

_"Bullshi…" _the voice cut off as the two smaller vessels rotated, putting the broad vessel's bridge view-port at an angle that gave what Ryspiten hoped was a nice, slow pan of the number of cannons bristling along the broadside.

"I repeat. Stand down," he left the channel open so the whine of the targeting beacons would echo across it for a few long moments.

_"Pardon. We were simply claiming salvage on this wreckage,"_ the female voice on the other side seemed slightly strange, and all but one of the life-forms retreated to the larger vessel, which rapidly broke off and peeled away, streamers of green radiation tailing behind. Ryspiten ordered a lone shot be fired at them, a warning, not that it would be particularly necessary to repeat the warning if the echoing explosion of a Gun-servitor whooping for joy was any indication.

"Wipe that servitor's memories before it starts getting intelligent again," not that it had been before. Most of the gun-servitors onboard the Dragunov were clone-vat stock, bred to be modified into whatever was necessary at the time. He leaned forward, peering at the Auspex scan of the smaller vessel, and the lone life-form struggling to reach the aft end, "Decimus, Valorius, To me. The human onboard that vessel requires aid."

The armored Apothecary and the Techmarine joined their commander beside the airlock. Their suits had a half hour of air, helmets locked, and they would probably wind up using most of it to make the round trip. The massive door sealed shut with a hiss and a release of cold steam as the air was evicted from the chamber, instantly evaporating the condensation that had formed on the interior surfaces. Calmly, the three gripped forearms, ensuring a firm connection before Ryspiten launched himself into the void, jump pack propelling them across the void far faster than he had realized it would. He was forced to release Decimus, who deftly snagged the hull with both massive paws, and halted his movement. The tether cable that had been strung between the three as a precaution drew taut and swung the commander face-first into what he assumed to be the airlock. The apothecary swept under and impacted the belly of the cargo hold, and another apparent air-lock, with a rather loud KLONG that left all three marines with ringing ears. Ryspiten wondered how the human inside the vessel was doing after that sound.

He pressed the retract button on the cable, and his sides returned, gently gripping the surface magnetically as Decimus examined the hatch. A few taps and some barely audible words, and the hatch creaked open, folding downwards, like a ramp. This vessel must have been a landing craft of some sort. But then where was the cruiser? The three swept around the ramp and Decimus reeled it in, waiting for the telltale hiss before the inner doors creaked open, sliding into the floor and ceiling. The three untethered and began carefully trudging through the hold, each making his own assumptions about it.

Ryspiten was the first to come across the human, crawling back towards a tunnel too small for a marine to get through upright. He held up a hand and called out, "Halt."

The human did so, and rolled over, staring in shock at the gruesome mask the commander wore, rust red and streaked with black marks matching his every scar, in particular a black oval wreathing the left side of his helmet, "Ah, so that's what the reaper looks like. Can't say I expected that one. Thought you'd be shorter. And you know, female?"

"Apothecary, tend to this man! I believe he can survive, if you work quickly!" having a small group of planetary guard serving onboard his ship at almost all times had made him an excellent judge of what a human could survive, and this one was tougher looking than some of the men in the guard.

The human simply stared before holding up what appeared to be a part to a machine, "Engine! Needs this…" the human coughed blood onto the deck, "Save Serenity. Save my ship first!"

"Decimus! Get your ass in here!" The other two marines arrived simultaneously, and slipped past their commander, Decimus snaring the part from the human with a mecha-dendrite and a practiced ease. He was on his knees in the most undignified position his commander had ever seen, squeezing through the tiny hatch, but he fit, just barely.

Valorius drew out a stim-pak and deftly extruded the gray paste across the gaping wound in the human's abdomen, carefully pinching it closed so the artificially produced enzymes could knit the tattered flesh back together. There would barely even be a scar if the man was lucky. He nodded to the human, the movement barely registering in his skull-faced helmet, "No, he's not the reaper, you are? But then what is he?"

"My captain."

"No, no, no, Me Captain. My ship, Me Captain. I'm Captain," the human looked at the two marines as a loud hiss filled the chamber, and the human began breathing clearer. Evidently the oxygen concentration in the air had been low. They hadn't even noticed. "I'm the captain here. My name is Malcolm Reynolds. Welcome to Serenity. Sorry I couldn't greet you at the door, I was a bit busy dying. What the gorram hell did you do to me anyway?"

"You sought healing. I healed you. Simple as that."

"Captain Reynolds, I am afraid I must ask you some questions. This may take a few hours. I hope you…" he paused for a moment, hand sliding up to the side of his face as his comm-bead started chittering. He nodded a few times, absently repeating "Aff, Aff, Aff" for almost five minutes, concluded with a simple, "Negative Gunner. Do not fire on that shuttle or I will be adding your head to the rest of my trophies." He turned back to Captain Reynolds, "Captain, we have two incoming shuttles, both declaring to be part of the crew of this vessel. Is this true?"

"It is. But I didn't call them back…" He stood and started wobbling down the corridor towards the upper deck, where Ryspiten spotted another pair of airlocks, much smaller than the one they had entered through. There was a pair of loud clicks and the doors opened. People swarmed in just as Decimus returned from the engine room and stood. The three marines looked at the crew, such a motley collection, but they acted like family. He had the feeling that any one of them would die for another. Or that all of them would die to give just one a chance to survive. Tighter than his marines even.

Ryspiten cleared his throat loudly, causing all nine of them to turn. They seemed suddenly very surprised at the presence of an armored giant standing in their ship, until one of them, a young female, looked directly into Ryspiten's eyes from the catwalk, "Three soldiers. Three brains, but one mind. Black, white, and greys, they cloud minds." The girl paused for a moment, as if expecting a response to the nonsense, "Two-by-Two, must meet New."

The largest of the men in the group looked at the girl, "Are you insane! We don't even know those people!" He turned back to the three marines, eying the massive bolter pistol strapped to Ryspiten's hip, "Though they seems like my kinds 'o people. Why don't I do the diplomacy this time?"

Ryspiten did a quick height comparison, this human was certainly taller than his captain, but he was still almost two feet shorter than the marine, and those height differences made the man seem to shrink slightly as he approached, "Uh, hi. My name's Jayne Cobb. I'm sorta the diplomat around here, so I guess it's my job to introduce my captain and crew."

The commander nodded, "Well met Jayne Cobb. I am Ryspiten Halsyng, Commander of the Arcanus Dragunov, Strike Cruiser in his Imperial Majesty, The God-Emperor of Mankind's service. These are my Apothecary, Valorius Tuukar," Valorious nodded, arms crossing his chest and forming the Aquila, "and my second and third hand, Decimus Gellar." Decimus crossed his own arms and nodded as both marines, in perfect stereo, quoted, "Well met. Emperor willing, this day you have found great allies."

Jayne nodded and looked at the three again, "I believe you already know Captain Reynolds?" at a nod of confirmation, he continued, "The one who doesn't make much sense is River Tam, our little sister. The fancy boy beside her is her older brother, Simon Tam. He's the only doctor we've got aboard this ship. The old guy with the book is Shepherd Book, our preacher. Skinny white boy's Wash Washburn, best gorram pilot I ever saw. The big black lady's his wife, Zoe. The quiet one is Kaylee Frye, our mechanic. And lastly, the lady in the back with her hands all over the Captain is Inara. She's a 'Registered Companion'" Ryspiten could actually hear the quotes around the words "but Mal just calls her a whore."

Captain Reynolds hollered down from the catwalk, "I'm the only one allowed to call her that!"

"Anywho, that's the crew, plus Serenity, our home," Jayne smiled what he hoped was a harmless looking toothless, totally peaceful smile.

The marine nodded at him, "I see. Captain, Your ship is in desperate need of parts and repairs. My vessel has the facilities to assist, if you accept. During your stay aboard the Dragunov, you will be treated as my guests, and will not want for anything I do not." Considering the food-stores he had seen in the hold, he figured that they had maybe a day and a half left of ration-bars before they starved to death slowly.

Captain Reynolds leaned over the railing slightly, "Are you certain you will have enough room?"

That was almost insulting. That a vessel of the Dragunov's stature could not house an extra nine baseline humans for a month or two was unfathomable, as Inquisitors often would bring entire entourages of a dozen or more scribe servitors, lexmechanics, and their own personal astropaths, and stay on for much longer. "Indeed Captain, I believe you will find our facilities quite comfortable." He wasn't entirely sure though. What he had seen of this ship, it had a fairly comfortable medical bay, though the tables simply would not support the weight of a brother.

Captain Reynolds looked at him, "Ookay. So where is your ship then?"

"Up there," Ryspiten pointed out the front at an upward diagonal, and the crew rushed to the bridge to see if they could spot it. He thought he heard one of the females exclaim "Shiny!" but he couldn't be totally sure, as he was almost certain there was nothing shiny about the rust red paint beneath the hazy void-shields.

Captain Reynolds rushed back out of the bridge, "How the hell are we going to get on that thing!"

"I'll help you steer it in, of course," the marine commander was getting tired of this game. He would have to wait until he could get the nine into a room with a history servitor to really educate them, but it really didn't seem that hard to get such a dinky little craft into the hold of the immense strike cruiser. After all, it wasn't much larger than a bomber, and there was at least three of those sitting in the hold right at that moment.

"No offense sir, but you won't fit in the cockpit."

"Of course not. And until I have seen your pilot flying, I will assume he does not have the control necessary to plant this craft inside the hangar without crashing it. Decimus and Valorious will be riding your wingtips, and I will be giving corrections via hand signals through the view-port," the captain sighed and pointed at the hangar door.

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"I'll let you out," he sighed again and slid down the railing to the control panel. The doors opened, and Captain Reynolds stared, awestruck, as the immense figures stepped through the open doorway in perfect step-lock. The inner door closed, and the outer door opened with a hiss of released air. The three marines took up their positions, trudging along the hull via magnetic boots.

Wash began easing the vessel in, listening to the bleed-over chatter as he watched the massive figure standing firmly atop the nose of Serenity like some bizarre hood ornament. He guided Wash in smoothly, and the pilot dropped into a pattern as his brain became removed from the pilot's seat and joined Kaylee, marveling at the gaping maw of the vessel. Quite honestly, he was still scared shitless of those guys, because he didn't know if they were Alliance or not, but he was fairly confident that they weren't, after all, Alliance vessels couldn't stand to be that particular shade of rust-red.

The Firefly transport eased into the bay and settled comfortably, dismounting the riders as though they had practiced the move, which, looking at the other vessels in the hangar, they might have. Captain Mal took up a stance at the cargo-bay door, Zoe on his right, Jayne on his left holding Vera tightly in a passive ready pose. The door opened with a soft hiss of pressure stabilization, musty metallic tasting air rushing in and raising the pressure by a subtle but not insignificant amount. Standing before him was Ryspiten and his two men, backed by an aisle between two rows of men as big as the commander, wearing similar armor. Rust-red, streaked with black. In the larger area, with over two dozen repeats, Mal could clearly see that they all bore a matching pauldron, a four-spoke cog with the spokes covered by large rifle-bullets that looked so real he felt like he could pull them out. The opposite pauldron differed more though. Not everyone had differences, but there was enough for him to tell that those were probably squad emblems. The commander bore one that looked like a double-headed eagle, a noble emblem to indicate command, "Zoe, when we get back to our happy life, remind me to get one of those pauldrons." Valorious wore the universal logo of the medical field, the intertwined serpents, printed in tar black. Decimus bore a cog with a pair of crossed wrenches embedded in place of the spokes, again so realistic that he felt he could just grab the tools out of the plate.

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"Welcome, Captain Malcolm Reynolds of Serenity, to Strike Cruiser Arcanus Dragunov," he threw up both arms, gesturing to the immense hold and the rack after rack of drop-pods, Thunder-hawks, Chimera tanks, and Land-raiders. In step, every marine behind him began stomping their feet, rocking the deck, and nearly knocking Mal and his sides over. "Gentlemen, and Lady, right this way, and we will get you situated," he began walking as Decimus and Valorious returned to their normal posts.

"The Dragunov is one of the finest ships of the class in the Astartes Mechanicus Division, boasting three hundred hell-cannons, fourteen void-slayer missile launchers, and triple-redundant void shields. Two thousand of the Emperor's Finest serve aboard her, of those, Two hundred loyal Astartes, Ten Apothecaries, Ten Tech-marines, Ten Armiger Marines, One hundred and sixty Tech-adepts, Twenty-four Enginseers, Ten cooks, Twenty-six Astropaths and assorted Sanctioned Psykers, One thousand assorted Servitors, Five hundred Guardsmen, and Fifty aspirants. She has stock for three thousand, should it be required, for up to seven years, and rooming for One thousand and Twenty-four beings," Ryspiten stopped at a door nearly big enough for Serenity to fit through, etched with the same double-eagle as his pauldron, waiting patiently as it opened slowly but surely.

"But that leaves you nine hundred and seventy six bunks short," Zoe looked at him, wondering how they solved that problem. It was an interesting issue, one that had never come up in the 'Verse before, because every ship had enough bunks for all of its crew to use and personalize.

He smiled grimly beneath his helmet, "We rotate. Two shifts. Twelve hours each," he continued walking, attempting to slow himself to a pace these shorter humans could maintain. The ship was after all, a full kilometer and a half in length, and half a kilometer wide and tall. If not for the hold occupying the entire first quarter, it could probably support more crew like some of those scout cruisers out there. He finally reached the lift, a massive cable-drawn platform that used gravitics to ease the effort it needed. The commander turned his back to the wall and spoke, clearly and loudly enough that Mal and Zoe actually flinched. Jayne just pointed to the ear-plugs embedded in his ears and grinned. "Lift. Level Beta Alpha."

The massive platform began rising, rocketing towards the deck. From level Romeo Charlie to Beta Alpha was a rise of nearly seventy floors, which the lift traversed in slightly more than a minute, during which the three humans carefully stood back to back, avoiding the walls shooting past them at a little over five meters per second like their life depended on it. Which, since that was a little over their normal running speed, and the walls were somewhat pointy, it probably did. A belt-sander was what came to Mal's mind as he watched the spikes rush past, a very rough belt-sander.

The lift finally came to rest and Ryspiten stepped forward, past the three guests, and across the small gap in the floor-plates, bidding them to follow him down the corridor. Off to either side were doors that stood floor to ceiling, three meters tall. Ryspiten came to a halt outside one door that bore a subdued and stylized 'I', topped by a grinning white skull. The door opened, and the Commander stood aside, "I hope this chamber is to your satisfaction."

The interior was immense, nearly twice the size of Serenity's cargo hold, and from the looks of it, designed to be used by multiple people. There were leveled bunks, each with an individual platform on the wall side and a fabric curtain made from some sort of blood-red fabric that resembled silk in the texture, but Kevlar weave in weight and tension. It was actually a braided mylar/ carbon-fiber blend that would stop a knife or a las-rifle, even a point blank range. It appeared that there were sixteen of these bunks, stacked two high, and four long, with what appeared to be a communal bathroom in the middle. Not too different from Serenity's wares, though the bunks were accessed differently, and there were more of them.

Mal's first thought at the sight was, "Does this come in a collapsible form?" If it did, packing an extra few bunks in the hold of Serenity would be worth charging an extra dozen credits for the more private rooms in the back.

Zoe looked around, "Are there any built for two?"

Jayne smiled, "And one of these is mine?"

Ryspiten took the three questions in, and answered calmly, "No, We have one in the lower left for larger inquisitors, it should fit two of your size, and yes, for the duration of your stay." The Commander stood by the doorway, on the outside, as the three explored the chamber, "Now, Mass is at 0430. Do NOT be late, or Brother-Librarian Zecharius will be very cross with you."

Jayne decided to respond, "Book gets mad at us all the time, what's so different about this 'Brother-Librarian'?"

"His mind, for one. Good evening. I shall see you at Mass," the commander walked away, closing the door behind him, parting words slipping past, "Your crew will be up shortly with Brother Jakyyle and Brother Quartyrmyn." Ryspiten returned to the bridge, as his backup would be turning in for the night cycle, and no longer be available to watch the ship for him.

He reached the railing and tapped his Co-commander on the shoulder, "Brother-Commander Halsyng, I believe it is time for you to turn in for the night."

The other marine turned, revealing the matching, but opposed black ovoid across his face. A mirror for the one on Ryspiten's face from when the two brothers, the only actual blood-brothers on the ship, and the only pair of twins in this part of the galaxy to both become marines, had tagged a Carnifex with a pair of chain-swords, and it had responded in kind, biting off the inner parts of their faces in a single bite. As it confused most of their superiors to have identical last names, the two often used their first names instead, even with each-other. But only over private channels. Some subordinates didn't even know there was two Commander Halsyngs.

"Raspytin. These newcomers, they will not be trouble?"

"No Doryin. They will not. Besides, if they are, treat them like the Inquisitorial staff."

Doryin smiled and walked down the long corridor to the captain's quarters. It was the only room in the entire ship that had no security systems protecting it. No-one would dare enter the room though, locks or not, because of the immense Carnifex skull that covered the back wall of the room, bearing the initials of both brothers carved with chainswords. It was the very same Carnifex that had taken their faces, and every man aboard knew how Brother-Commander Halsyng had lost his face to it, before returning the favor. Few knew that it had been both Commander Halsyngs who had performed the act, a detail they both made sure to leave out. It raised the opinions of them together, and had gained them their shared position.

The Inquisitorial staff quarters door was hanging open when Doryin passed it, and he paused, peeking in. The data-burst that Ryspiten had tossed over to his armor's machine-spirit helped him identify the nine occupants of the room, besides the two he already knew, Brothers Jakyyle and Quartyrmyn, the alchemist and the sniper. Nearly inseparable those two. Even now, actually, especially now, after almost a century of watching each-other's backs, the invisible cord that bound the two was so thick that any Psyker who looked at it would believe they were the same person. They had even come to the proving grounds bearing the same first name, one having changed it legally before they had been recruited. No records could tell which one it had been though. And now, even a century later, the Hyde brothers continued to conceal that information.

The nine newcomers seemed to be settling in comfortably though, dividing into specific groupings and bunking up for the night. He said nothing, and continued walking, reaching the captain's cabin quickly and turning in for the night, laying atop a slab of steel that matched the back of his armor well enough to keep his back straight. The armored neck held his head up in position as he began the lengthy process of shutting down his brain for the night and hibernating.

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Please R&R, and let me know if you would like to be a character (Faction, Name, and one-off or not) via PM


	2. Chapter 2

Doryin Halsyng stepped into the 'temple', technically part of the hangar with an array of heavy duty catwalks arrayed in levels and an extensive Vox network. Standing at the pedestal, garbed in tar black armor, streaked in rust-red, with a masked psychic hood, the mask being carved from a 'Nid Genestealer skull, the claws of the same hung from his arms, stood the Brother Librarian. He smiled at the imposing figure, as he was currently towering over the dark-skinned man from the 'Serenity' crew. The dark skinned preacher seemed quite calm about seeing the brother.

Brother-Librarian Zecharius smiled at Shepherd Book. The preacher knew his material well, though it lacked a number of details. He seemed to realize that the events of Revelations had already happened, declaring that 'Earth-that-Was' had been destroyed by it. Zecharius corrected him, pointing out that Holy Terra still existed, and that the second coming had not yet left.

Book was puzzled by the Brother Librarian, how he claimed that the living incarnation of the lord was sitting in a golden throne on Earth-that-was apparently having repaired it with his own two hands eleven millennia ago. There were details that were off about that, and he couldn't believe that this massive man could possibly know what he was talking about. The good book said that when the end came, Earth would become the new seat of heaven, but from the looks of this ship, Earth was running Hell.

The two put in more discussion, but never once did the Astartes chaplain-psyker step back, nor did the mere human. They stubbornly dueled, word to word, book to book, until both sat down on the edge of the stage, hard enough to shake it. For a long minute they just stared at the walls before Zecharius concluded with, "The body on the Golden Throne is basically dead already, and the mind has entered the Warp full time now."

"The warp, which is that realm on the other side of reality, where Heaven and Hell exist?"

"Mainly Hell," Doryin stepped up and looked at the two, "Didn't think I'd see any of your crew here this early."

"I had to ensure that my family would not be led down the wrong path, like some have."

"We promise not to lead them down the wrong path. It is our duty as Astartes to lead people on the right path," Zecharius held out his hand, palm in, as an offer of a duty oath.

Book responded by taking his hand and shaking it gently, "Thank you. I shall go get the rest of my family." The preacher stood and started for the lift, only to be stopped by Doryin.

"No need. Brothers Jakyyl and Quartyrmyn will bring them down."

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The crew stepped onto the lift, being escorted by the two soldiers who had slept outside the door, supposedly, though they seemed to have never moved from their upright posture. Captain Mal had been eyeing them warily the entire walk, and through the lift ride, all the way to the 'temple', where Jayne looked at the catwalks and at Book standing beside the Brother-Librarian. He held up a hand, and Book replied with a wave before Jayne was forced to grab at the pistol on his hip. His instincts told him something big was happening, and he had no idea what.

The two soldiers escorting them did the same, grips tightening up on the stocks of their rifles. The Librarian-Chaplain hefted a mighty force-blade, drawing it partially and nodding to the Captain as he too drew his Bolter rifle. There was an incoming hail from someone. Doryin twisted on his heels and ran towards the lift shaft, lunging off the wall and firing his Jump pack. He soared up the hollow shaft, ever so glad the lift didn't have a ceiling as he reached the bridge level and sprinted down the hall.

The two Brother-Captains looked at each-other before opening the hail, only to the bridge, "Attention rogue vessel. Identify yourself and your reason for being here, or you will be fired upon." The vessel sending the hail was nearly the same size as the boxy Arcanus Dragunov, though it was a much shinier white color, and seemed to be a series of sky-scrapers, rather than a proper ship.

"This is Brother Captain Halsyng of the Arcanus Dragunov. Our reason for being here is an introduction to the great Imperium of Man, and an offer to join our great Empire," Ryspiten quoted to the vox-caster. The other vessel seemed to be pondering for a moment.

"Stand down, and hand over the fugitives you took onboard. We can see their vessel through your open hangar doors. If you do not turn them over to us immediately, we will fire on you."

Ryspiten pressed the comm-bead in his ear, linking up to every Astartes onboard, "Brothers, we are under attack. Prepare for impacts. Brother Zecharius, I believe Mass will be required to be postponed until a later time. Thunder-Hawks One through Six, load up for void conflict. Brothers Hyde, please remove our guests to a secure location."

The two soldiers waved their guns, "Come along now. We need to get you nine to the fortress. Most secure part of the ship."

The entire ship rattled as massive shells rained down on the void shields, though not very effectively. It took them almost a full minute to tear through the shields to a point where they could hit the thick hull. The shelling began wearing away at the fine layers of space-rust on the skin, and at the hand-etched plates that wreathed the entire skin.

As the first salvo ran dry, and the massive assault lulled for a brief reload session, Doryin hollered into his vox, "FIRE!" The response salvo from the Arcanus Dragunov, enough to maybe scratch a true assault ship's void-shields, tore through the white ship like it was made of wet tissue. Then the promethium warheads went off. The white ship caved rapidly in on itself as the oxygen inside was rapidly consumed to burn with the promethium at a temperature that would turn metals into gasses. The open structure of the other ship became its downfall as burning promethium was splattered from one hull to another as depressurization aerated it and the gravity generation units sucked it lower. The ship returned fire, beating away at the forward hull until it split open, exposing the crew servitors to the void. A bulkhead sealed them in, and the air-breathing servitors perished quickly. The second salvo turned the other vessel into a space-borne camp-fire that inspired Doryin to declare a third salvo. The final shots from the other vessel managed to pierce another bulk-head, cutting off the entire lower port bow cannons and auspexes. In return, the promethium missiles turned it into liquid fire that burnt itself out rapidly in the airless void.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Guests to the bridge please."

The crew of Serenity joined the captains on the bridge a few minutes later, and Ryspiten scowled at them, "Fugitives? From what?"

Captain Mal looked up at him, "The Alliance, Sir. They have been trying to unite the system under their merciless hand for centuries. Recently, there was a small war, one that killed off a lot of my friends. In return, I sorta kidnapped one of their superweapons," Mal pointed at River, who seemed preoccupied with the metal grating at her feet, "And now, they want her back."

"What do you mean, Superweapon?" Ryspiten looked River over, helmet mounted Auspex scanning every inch of her cellular structure. The only thing it showed was that she was a Psyker, and lacking part of her Amygdala. The limiter that kept them from becoming like the Emperor, a mere conduit for the power of the Warp, and she lacked it. Not good, not good at all. He had to get her to the Inquisition, fast, so they could determine if she was a threat.

"She is not a threat to the Imperium. She knows this already. He believes, in error, that she will be his downfall, when she really just wants to be normal," River spoke quietly, in the same haunting voice Psykers used when they were reading minds. Ryspiten grabbed the side of his head. He hadn't even felt the push, like he would have with a normal Psyker. What was she. He willed her to not answer his question unless he asked it out loud, and she nodded at him, silently confirming that she had read his mind.

"Captain Reynolds, I require your full cooperation now. This Alliance is attempting to bring a false Emperor to power, and must be eliminated, as should all Heretics. Will you help me?"

Mal bent his head in thought, trying to decide whether it was worth it to give up everything he had ever known in exchange for the true unity of the system, and the elimination of the Alliance. Was anything worth this?

"He wants to know if this is worth it. She knows that it is not, but it will be done anyway. The Alliance will suffer for their crimes against humanity. Hands cannot stay Blue forever." River was speaking again, and the two captains, from completely different lives, looked into each-other's eyes for the first time, really searching for something.

"You have my crew. We will help you."

"Excellent. Decimus, please take Miss Frye to the engine room, and get her acquainted with the Machine Spirits. Valorius, You shall escort Mister Tam to the medical bay and get him situated. I have the feeling we will need him soon. Jayne and Zoe, you will go with Quartyrmyn and Jakyyl, to the Armory. Book, I believe Brother Zecharius will need your assistance keeping morale up. I believe Inara would serve best as Lexmechanic Artesius's assistant. River, please return to your quarters for the time being. Wash, you will be assisting Brother-Pilot Aerrow in maintaining a stable flight pattern. Captain Reynolds, please join me on the platform," Doryin smiled at them. Wash would become a proper pilot, if they could get him to hold still long enough to do anything while Aerrow was asleep, and the rest of the crew seemed quite well suited to the positions he had assigned them.

)))))))))))))ooooo((((((((((((

Wash was scooped up by another Astartes in White and Rust-red armor, who dragged him off down the hall to the medical wing, where Simon was already going, of his own accord, following Valorius. In the apothecarion's chambers, the two white armored Apothecaries were quick to tie Wash down to the platform, "Do not vorry. Zis vill only hurt a little bit. I zink. I've never done zis to a normal human before." Brother Apothecarion Victyre Franklynstyne was terrifying even on a good day, and more so when he was happy. He stuck a big needle in Wash's abdomen, ignoring Simon telling him not to do that, it wasn't proper procedure, before he flipped the unconscious body face down and started cutting.

By the time Simon managed to break loose of Valorius' grip, Victyre was finished, and had flipped Wash face up again, "What did you do to him!"

"I made him better. Zee, Now he can fly zee Arcanuz Dragunov wiz eez. Zimple az zat."

"You stuck those Things in him!"

Valorius pulled Simon back, "MIU's, they allow him to speak directly to the Machine Spirit, without the interference of controls. It will not harm him, though he may never be able to fly your 'Serenity' ever again."

Wash snapped upright, "What do you mean Never Fly Serenity Again!"

"Not without modifying that primitive piloting couch it contains," Valorius smiled behind his helmet, "I think we've got a few spare couches around here somewhere," the Apothecary smiled and started waving his hands in the general direction of the stockroom.

)))))))))ooooo(((((((((

"Shiiiiny!" Kaylee looked at the immense fusion engine running in the belly of the scouting vessel like she had never seen anything like it before in her life, yet, when Decimus let go of her arm, she ran up to the side of the containment chamber and began whispering to it, sounding like she was apologizing for something. When Decimus arrived at her side, he heard the last little bit, "And then I'll get you a beautiful new paint job, and some nice war spikes maybe. But first we have got to get you cleaned up," she turned to Decimus, who was looking at her with a stunned expression on the half of his face that could still form expressions, and a blank slate on the other half, "Decimus, I'm gonna need some help getting parts from Serenity. I hate to do it, but Serenity would be glad to join Arcie. I bet they'll be best of friends." She started towards the coolant line, which was patched together with blessed bonding fabric. Kaylee simply plucked a sheet of scrap metal off the deck and tugged on Decimus' Flamer dendrite, "Come along now. We have holes to patch."

Decimus looked at the mechanic girl's eyes. She was focused on something, but he couldn't figure out what. Her eyes were clear, and he could see all the way to the nerves in the back. No indication of how she had managed to talk to the Machine Spirit through a solid bulkhead that didn't even have a data-port in it, "Hey, Miss Frye, Stop for a minute. Come over here." He jacked his own link cable into the wall and handed her his vox-coder and helmet, "Talk to the Machine Spirit first, and listen."

She slid the helmet on and started talking rapidly, calling up information over the line that escaped even Decimus' extensive knowledge. Finally, she took off the helmet and concluded a message into the vox, "Talk to you later Arcie. Now then, Brother-Mechanicus Decimus Gellar, we have patches to place. After which, Arcie requested that I not route through your IP. I'll need my own, thanks very much." She grabbed his flamer arm again and dragged him away, yanking the cable out and dragging it along the floor as she reached the spot she needed to weld, "Fire, please?"

))))))))))))))ooooooo(((((((((((((((

Brother-Marine Jakyyle pushed open the door to the 'Armory' which could have, to Jayne, just as easily been called Heaven, based on his reaction to the visuals of thousands of shiny slugthrowers of every shape and size. He crawled across half the deck, followed by Quartyrmyn, who simply tried not to laugh at the human working his way through the multi-story tall gun racks. He stopped at one and started climbing the racks, pulling out a Bolter Rifle as long as he was. He dropped to the deck with a loud thump and cradled the gun like it was a lover, "I think I'm gonna call you Sasha."

Quartyrmyn pulled the gun away from Jayne, "If you fire this, it will rip your shoulders off your spine. Even I have difficulty firing this particular variety without proper bracing."

"Great. Where's the testing range?" Jayne followed the incredulous finger point of the Astartes down to a half-kilometer long corridor, wreathed on both sides by an internal void-shield and five meters of armor plate, with nearly twice that at the very end to stop anything that got through the shields. He took up a firing position, hefting the one hundred kilogram Auto-Bolter like he knew what he was doing. Quartyrmyn looked at him, hand near his head in case he needed to call an Apothecary to put new arms on the gunslinger. Surprisingly, although the kick from the belt-clip forced Jayne off his feet, he seemed alright. He stood up and looked at Quartyrmyn, shouting, "OH MAN! I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS! MY ARMS FEEL LIKE JELLY!"

Quartyrmyn grabbed the gun and held it away from the mercenary, "YOU BLEW OUT YOUR EARDRUMS! STUPID HUMAN!" He dragged Jayne back to the armory, "I'm taking him to the Apothecarions to fix his STUPID-ASS EARDRUMS! Back in ten."

Jakyyl looked at Zoe, and pointed at the testing range, "Anything you feel like testing?"

She shrugged and hefted a Las-pistol, "What caliber does this baby use?"

"1152 nano-meters."

"That's tiny. What's it shoot?"

"Lasers. Very high powered lasers."

"That'll never work. I need a real gun."

Jakyyl smiled and guided the dark skinned soldier to a rack of antique bolt-pistols, designed for the Adeptus Sororitas, of which there were at least a dozen onboard right now. He was never really sure, "I'd recommend the Gauss-cannon of Spite. Seventy millimeter shells, single shot, can be equipped with a ten shot clip. No recoil, no noise, no testing indoors."

She picked up the gun and smiled at it as she admired the barrel design, and the delicate carvings on it, "So, how do I turn off the safety?"

Jakyyl took the gun and gently tugged a cork out of the back of the gun before flipping a switch on the side. The gun hummed for a moment before going black, "Needs an external battery-pack to fire, but it loads like this," he pressed a thick cylinder into the back, letting it slide through to the front, where he caught it again, "The round fires as soon as the magnets get it, so don't load until you're ready to fire. And do you have any metal in you?"

"What, like old bullets? A few."

"Yeah, you'll want to have the Apothecaries look those over before you even turn this gun on. It'll suck them all out, and well, probably kill you. Incidentally, you'll be needing armor anyway."

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"Captain Reynolds, you know what it is like at the head of such power, am I correct?"

"I do. Why do you ask?"

"You may not be able to become a proper Astartes, but the men here would follow any man I name Commissar like they were me. I can grant you that."

"I would be honored, but I am unfit to lead an army again. That was why we lost the battle of Serenity Valley. That was why we lost the whole war."

"I believe the war has just started, brother. You will be leading from wherever you want, however you want, to take back the land that rightfully belongs to you."

"Thank you Sir," Mal could not refuse. Even if he had wanted to give up the chance to fight back against the Alliance, he couldn't resist the offer, like someone was compelling him to accept it, "River, please get out of my head."

"But he needs help. You can help him get back at the men who hurt her."

"I suppose she accepted on your behalf. Go get suited up. We fight at 1200," Doryin placed a hand against the control panel, switching on the shipwide vox network, "Arcanus Dragunov, battle readiness by 1200. We have a war to end."

)))))))))ooooooo(((((((((((((

Kaylee looked at the tech-servitors hauling bits of Serenity into the engine room, where she began pushing pieces into place, whispering to the panels as she spliced several wires to make a link between Serenity and the Arcanus Dragunov. The box whirred to life as the two Machine Spirits conversed briefly before the entire ship went entirely pitch black, barring the flamer torches of servitors welding plates back together. Kaylee patted the box on the side, "Come on baby, you can do this. It's just a bigger ship…"

The lights flashed back on and the ship began whirring proudly as a small display panel on the Serenity Logic Engine began spewing what looked like gibberish to Decimus. Kaylee seemed to understand it and started spouting orders, almost like she was a mouthpiece for the entire vessel. Decimus grabbed her throat, "Stop ordering my men around. Convert that gibberish into Low Gothic for me, and go see the Apothecarions before you hurt someone."

Kaylee turned and pushed a few buttons before walking, sort of dazed, to where she had seen the Apothecarion's chambers on the map. They greeted her with a pair of frowning masks as Simon smacked Jayne on the back of the head, "Oh, Hi Kaylee. What are you in for?"

"Decimus told me to come up here before I hurt someone down there. I've never been kicked out of an engine room before. What do I do?"

Valorius dropped her on the table and knocked her out quickly before pulling out one of the MIU's the Tech-priests used, "Dammit, I hate when they do this." He made a deft slice across the back of her skull, where he took off a chunk of skull, before packing the MIU in its place, fitting the device snugly around her brain, "There we go. Now she won't be ordering anyone around, hopefully, and she should be able to communicate more easily with the Servitors and Decimus now." He slid a yoke-like collar over the MIU and the back of her neck, "No mecha-dendrites until Decimus says she can have them. This is just a communication suite."

Kaylee sat up and rolled off the table, landing on her butt, "Hey, Simon. My head's all tingly. I can't hear Serenity anymore… Where's Serenity?"

"I don't know. The hangar probably?"

"No, no, that can't be. I took her apart to fix the engines. I can't feel her in my head anymore though."

Valorius held up his bloodied hand, with what appeared to be a piece of brain on it, "Low level telepathy. Non-threatening when controlled, but she wasn't, so I had to remove it."

"That's part of my brain!"

"You've got a better replacement!"

"Then why can't I hear Serenity!"

"Plug the cable in!"

She pulled the cable out of the yoke and stared at it for a long moment before plugging it into the matching outlet in the wall, "Oh, She's back. Do you have a wireless version of this? No, not-shiny. I need to get back downstairs to the engine room!" She unplugged the cable and ran down the corridors, following channels that only a Tech-priest should have been able to find, let alone fit through.

)))))))))ooooo(((((((((

"Wash, welcome back to the bridge. Nice um, sockets?"

"Thanks Cap'n. They're so I can fly this tub. Now where do I sit?"

Doryin pointed at a piloting throne, and a servitor came up to help Wash slot all the plugs into the right sockets, before Wash's eyes rolled back into his head, "Oh, wow. I can see everything! This is so COOL!"

"Yes. Brother-Pilot Aerrow said the same thing when he plugged in for the first time too."

The immense ship began to rotate, bringing the broadside, a small suite of cannons compared to some, but it wasn't truly a warship, just a scouting vessel. The cannons floated into place as Wash dipped into the control system and gently pushed it, helping the centuries older pilot rotate the kilometer long block. Finally the cannons slipped into place, and the Alliance ship seemed to realize just what it was up against.

Gun ports opened up in the sides and several scout fighters popped out of the belly and towers, in an effort to match the raw firepower of the Imperium vessel. Fire poured from both ships, dumping hot lead into space. Torpedo salvoes tore through the shieldless towers as Thunder-hawks strafed the belly, clearing off the fighters. It was a decent challenge for the Dragunov, and for Wash, a very new experience. He could see the black around him, and every time he swung his arms, another missile salvo would appear. He drove a punch up against the representation of the Alliance vessel, and several more missiles, aimed purposefully, tore into it.

))))oooooo((((

Kaylee shouted as the engine room rocked violently. The violence from the Alliance vessel had penetrated parts of the Void Shields, and several compartments had been exposed to the vacuum again. She could feel everything happening all at once, and she heard Wash screaming in pain, though he was nearly half a kilometer away, and nowhere near that loud.

Decimus scowled and grabbed the massive wheel on a bulkhead, wrenching it heavily, to open a channel that would redirect the air from the spaced segment to somewhere that needed it.

)))))oooooo(((((

Jayne tugged on his space suit over the new ears he had been given, and tried to ignore how much his legs felt like jeely, or how he still couldn't feel his arms. They were moving, and he was able to aim Sasha, pointing it out of an airlock between two missile launchers. Quartyrmyn stood beside him, wielding a gun that made Sasha look tiny, and hefting it like it was weightless, though the grav-plates stretched out this far.

The two began firing off singular shots, bracing against the bulkhead door as they unloaded precision shots into the tiny fighters that continued to harrass the Dragunov.

))))oooo((((

Everything went completely silent as the Alliance vessel began glowing brightly. The reactor had been hit, and it was going to go up in a giant ball of fire. Jayne dragged Quartyrmyn back through the airlock. Wash yelled in stereo with Aerrow, "Brace for Impact!" Kaylee ran for the only wall not covered in steam-pipes. Zoe dove to the floor of the armory, urging Jakyyl to do the same. Mal wrapped his arms as firmly as he could around the railing before him. River wrapped her entire body around a structural beam.

The explosive wall of fire hit, melting through the already damaged Void Shields, and began eating away at the hull, cutting through bulkheads like they were butter. Jayne and Quartyrmyn scrambled for the Dragunov's spine, only to stop as the heat vanished. The Alliance vessel imploded on itself as it ran out of power, and the two snipers paused, looking out throught he cleanly melted off end of the corridor. It had taken nearly a quarter of the side of the Dragunov off.

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Kaylee stared at the wall as it began to cool and the burst stopped leaking. Too much heat too fast, and it had blown out a decent chunk of the ship, almost all the way to the engine-room. Decimus began repairing almost mechanically, not really looking at anything, just following the rituals of repair to get the engine back to full functionality as quickly as possible. He ignored the shocked mechanic, leaving her sitting on the floor, shaking with the exertion of the last ten minutes.

))))oooo((((

Wash stopped screaming as he was disconnected from the ship, and immediately began feeling his right side, making certain that everything was still attached. He had delved deeper into the ship than he should have, and it had hurt him. Mal and River took his arms and began leading him back to their quarters to recover.

"Take care that he does not suffer any ill effects from that, Commissar Reynolds," Doryin looked at Aerrow, "How bad is it?"

"We've lost half the starboard cannons and torpedo launchers. The starboard lower propulsion unit is out of order, but Decimus has a team on it. Armament is down by half. The explosion grazed the promethium tanks and ignited the starboard armory. Servitors have been deployed to extinguish what remains. Void shield generators aren't responding on starboard or the bow, and if we don't reinforce the snout quickly, the next move I make will tear the hangar completely off."

"Understood. Establish shipwide maintenance procedures, and link Brother-librarian Zecharius to the ship-wide vox. He will have to perform Mass as we work."

))))oooo((((

The explosion had blown Shepherd Book across the chapel, and he could see Brother-librarian Zecharius laying on his side just a few feet away. He rolled the heavier man over carefully, and with a great deal of sweat, as the soldier-preacher was still in full armor. As soon as Brother Zecharius' face became visible, Book stopped rolling him and reached up, closing the Librarian's thick eye-lids. It was a wonder Book had survived the impact, and from the look of it, the dent in Zecharius' armor, and the way his arms were positioned, it appeared that he had caught Book before acting as a cushion against the wall. The backpack on the armor had been forced forward by an immense pressure, and had severed the soldier's spine, right at the base of the neck. There was no recovering from that.

"Brother, may you rest in peace, and go to the side of the king, now and forever more. I am not you, or of your blood, but I will make things right again. Quitting my career was a mistake, I see that now. Goodbye for now, may we meet again, in greener pastures."

))))oooo((((

"Damn, Nice shooting Q. Maybe you could teach me how to do that."

Quartyrmyn tapped the side of his helmet, where the armor's machine-spirit helped him aim. Sure he did all the hard work, but the crosshairs in his helmet helped a lot, "You'd need more than just those fancy vox-ears to do that sort of shooting."

))))oooo((((

Marines and Servitors began entering the medical chamber, carrying the injured, and sometimes dead. Simon stood by the door, staying out of the Apothecarion's way as he documented every dead body, and had them reverently placed off to one side to be given their last rites by Book or Brother Zecharius. The Apothecarions, for their part, moved the wounded through fairly quickly, sealing open wounds and smoothing out ragged tears before documenting a point for those who needed them to get cybernetic replacements. When Book walked in, flanked by two servitors carrying the front of a stretcher that seemed to be made of steel and cargo-netting, he froze. Lying on that webbing was a suit of armor he recognized, though he had seen it only once.

"Status?"

"Dead. Severed spinal cord," Book followed the servitors over to the pile of bodies and carefully assisted the four servitors in unloading the heavy body, positioning it alongside the others, "Brother Zecharius, I do not know if you can still hear me, but if you can, take these poor souls with you. They will still be in need of your guidance."

Book turned to the apothecarions, "Alright then, how can I help?"

))))oooo((((

Wash sat on his bunk as Zoe returned, shuddering from the impact of the ship being so horribly devestated while he was connected to it, "Hush, honey. It'll all be alright. Remember, all they do, they can't take the skies from us. We're still free, and you're still you."

Wash just leaned into her and started outright weeping, "It was horrible. I could feel my arm vaporizing..."

* * *

Alright, next chappie up. Next time: Blue Sun Meets Space Marine.


End file.
